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Part VII: A challenging time
“I swear you’re more trouble than it’s worth sometimes,” groaned Trogdar, stretching his back as he walked along the corridor. The ice had performed its duty and knitted his wounds back together, but the effort of fighting the Black Orc warband had taken its toll. “I shall move forward and prepare to cast a spell. I shall move forward…” muttered the Wizard as he walked along behind. “Agreed,” chimed in Short-arse, limping slightly as she walked. “I shall move forward and prepare to cast a spell. I shall move forward…” “What did you see?” asked Jandyr politely. “I shall move forwards and… nothing…” said the Wizard, his train of thought interrupted. Jandyr looked at him as if a Hawk examining his meal but said nothing further. A wave of heat washed over the warriors as they entered a large chamber. Flickering flames rose from a large crack across the centre of the room, a small wooden bridge the only route across. A large statue of a dragon gleamed in the far distance, and shapes moved in the shadows beneath its fiery glow. A particularly large shape strode forward, resolving into the form of an immense Orc Warrior, clad in heavy chainmail armour and brandishing an axe in one hand and a glowing blue sword in the other. “WHICH ONE UV YOOZ IZ GONNA FITE ME, SKULLBASHA!?” shouted the Orc over the broiling sounds of the molten river below. He walked to the bridge and stood at the far end, awaiting his victim. The warriors looked at each other sullenly, their wounds fresh in the memory. Suddenly, the Wizard walked forward and planted his staff in the bridge. “YOU SHALL NOT PASS!” he bellowed. The Orc looked at the Wizard with bemusement before bursting into a guttural laugh. A chorus of laughter came from the darkness behind him. “Err, it’s us that wants to pass,” said Short-arse plainly. The Wizard stood motionless, waiting for the Orc to join him on the bridge. “SO, DIS IS OO YOUZE SEND!?” bellowed Skullbasha. He began to stride across the bridge which swayed wickedly with each step. The Wizard grinned as he walked. His eyes turned white as he raised one arm towards the Orc, crystal shards of white ice forming from his fingers. “FREEZE!” A cone of white ice shot towards Skullbasha’s face. At the last second however, the spray was drawn sharply upwards towards the glowing sword, raised high above the Orc’s head. The ice formed on the sword for a second, then melted into steam. “Eep!” exclaimed the Wizard, who produced a firebomb from his tunic, lit it, and dropped it at the Orc’s feet before turning and running back to the others. “COWARD!” shouted Skullbasha, shrugging off the blast as the bomb went off beneath him. “FACE ME OR FACE DEM!” He gestured to the darkness behind him as shadows resolved into the hulking shapes of Orcs. Each carried a heavy wooden bow the height of a man which they drew back in unison, firing a volley of hooked arrows towards the Warriors. “Oh for fu…” began Trogdar.